I stared at him. He stared at me with his ice cold blue eyes, and one thing was clear. He wanted me as I much as I wanted him. His face was beautiful, chiseled like a statue in a museum. His sandy blonde hair sat in a mess on the top of his head, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. Hell, there wasn't a part of his body that I didn't want to touch. I literally ached watching him across the room. I stood up and smiled. Maybe if I left, he would follow.
I wasn't that girl. I wasn't the girl that just saw a man, and took off her clothes. But the idea of him, the sheer thought of the pleasure that he could bring me made my body spasm with the excitement. I knew what I had to do. I was drawn to him.
I walked towards him. I had to in order to get to the door. I adjusted my dress, and for once in my life was thankful that Rosalie had talked me into wearing it. I was close. My heart started to beat faster.
I purposely took a path so that I would have to walk right past him. I was with in five steps, four, three, two... his hand reached out and grabbed mine.
"Leaving so soon," he asked.
"Do you want to come with," I asked.
Never in my life had I been so bold.
He smiled. He stood up and threw a twenty dollar bill on the table. Neither one of us exchanged a word until we walked out the door.
He turned to look at me. I opened my mouth, he put his fingers to my lips. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "There is no need for pleasantries, we both know what we want,"
My breathing was becoming iratic. There was a need, an overwhelming need to have him close to me. I wanted to feel the heat of his skin on mine. He removed his finger from my lips and replaced it with the softness of his lips. They tasted of vanilla, his breathe of beer. I closed my eyes as his tounge parted my lips. He wrapped his arms around my waste, pulling me into him. There was no room to move. Not that I wanted to.
"Your place or mine," I as he pulled away.
"My truck is right over there," he replied, pointing. I didnt pay attention to where he was pointing, just smiled as he held me tight. We walked to his truck, my hand nestled in his front pocket. I felt the heat, the want that was coming from this body.
I knew what was coming from mine.
He opened the passenger side door, allowing me to climb in. As I reached over to grab the seat belt, I felt his hand sliding its way up my dress. I looked at him, reaching my mouth forward to meet his mouth again. I knew I was playing a dangerous game.
"Whats your name," he asked me as I pulled away.
"Jane," I replied. I wasn't about to give him my real name.
"I'm Riley," he said. His hand touching me in places that hadn't been touched in what seemed like forever.
I didn't care. I admit it. I just wanted to be with him, my body so close to his, that there was no room for even air inbetween.
"Riley," I whispered, "Lets go. As you said no need for pleasantries."
I didn't care if I would hate myself in the morning.
